Still of the Night
by StAngelS
Summary: Fearful and in panic, Bella starts each day waking up at 2.13am. Haunted by a past she cannot change. Tormented by her own guilt. Can Miracle Doctor Cullen cure her or will the arrival of a dark stranger help Bella find peace from her past? Or is this the beginning of the end for Forks? Some lemons,few scary bits, E/B, AH, OOC, Supernatural/ Suspense/ Romance MA Rating
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Twilight and all its characters belong to the genius Stephanie Meyer as do Supernatural to Eric Kripke and McG. I just use their inspiration to let my imagination run wild.**

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><p><em>In the still of the night<em>

_I held you, held you tight_

_'Cause I love, love you so_

_Promise I'll never let you go_

_In the still of the night_

_In the Still of the Night – Cole Porter_

_**Prologue**_

"Jake, just go," I say rather abruptly. "You've been planning this trip with Quill and Embry for months now. We can talk about this when you get back, okay?"

I know that I haven't chosen the right time to break the news to him, but he is going on a four day fishing trip with his pack of friends and I need to get this over with. There is no way on earth that I would be able to wait for him to come back before telling him. Knowing Jake, he would persuade me to change my mind if I give him the time to do so.

"But Bella…" I put my hands up in front of me, stopping him before he gets started again.

"See it this way; it will be easier on both of us to get this over with as soon as possible. You can go fishing with the guys and have some time to clear your head." Jake doesn't look convinced but I'm not going to give him a choice. We've danced this dance too many times before.

"I have to go. School starts in fifteen minutes." I turn around and head for the door. I can feel him walking behind me and before I know it, he has his hands on my shoulders and he's putting way too much force in turning me around, his calloused fingers are pressing into my shoulders. Suddenly he's kissing me violently, his tongue trying to force its unwelcomed way into my mouth. Pinning me to the door, he plunges a hand into my hair and pulls way too hard.

I muster up as much force as I can and push him away, saying loudly, "No Jake! This is not going to solve things. Go fish. Go drink. Go have some fun and when you get back we can talk about it again."

He takes a step back as if I've just slapped him hard across the face.

I can see he's fuming. Standing in front of me, I can see him shake. "If that's… how you feel… I suggest you get out of here... NOW... before I lose control." He looks like he's about to attack me.

I've never been afraid of him before, but like they say, there's a first time for everything. I've seen Jake lose his temper before. Usually we'd be out shooting pool and some stranger would push Jakes buttons leading to a fist fight, but he's never lost his cool with me before. Standing there, watching him stare at me with cold, malice in his eyes, I am afraid. I'm afraid of what he will do, and I'm afraid of how he will react if I continue to stay there. I can feel every nerve in my body standing to attention.

I turn on my heel and run out of the door, the cool Forks rain hitting me in the face like little razor blades. My heart is racing, my palms are sweating and I can barely catch my breath. I run to my old beat up Chevy truck, get in, and drive away as quickly as I can.

I can't believe I actually did that.

_Oh my God_, I think, _what have I done?_

::::::

The entire school day long, I can't seem to shake the feeling that something awful is about to happen. The day passes in a daze and before I know it I'm home, packing up my meager belongings in preparation of moving out of the place I share with Jake. I want to ensure I'm out of here by the time he gets back from his fishing trip.

Several hours later and a half a dozen boxes, I crawl into bed only to fall into a dreamless sleep.

It's the still of the night when I feel the bed dip down behind me. Jake must have changed his mind about the fishing trip. Considering the bad weather we've been experiencing. I'm not surprised.

Jake's cold, wet body presses up against me, soaking my night shirt, sending a cold shiver scuttling across my skin. His arms are wrapped around me, holding me so tight that I'm finding it hard to breathe.

As I'm about to protest, there's a loud bang on the door. Now, who would be calling on us at this hour of the night? As I look over at the clock, the time reads two-thirteen in the morning. A second more forceful knock has me flinging the sheets back and heading to the door.

"Who is is?" I ask through the thin barrier of wood.

"Bells, it's dad. Can you open the door please?"

Confused, I open the door. "Dad, whats wrong?"

"It's Jake," my father answers, looking as if he's trying to find a good way to break some news to me. "He's been in an accident. He's dead, Bella."

"No, he's not," I scoff and head back towards our bedroom. As I step inside extreme cold wraps around me like a suffocating blanket. There's no one there. Not a single soul.

Nothing but a cold, wet bed.

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><p>I know it's not much. It's just a taste of much bigger things to come. Let me know what you thought, please?<p> 


	2. Chapter 1 - Deep in the Night

Here we go.

Thank you to Saharadesiderata and pkmarita for the beta help. And thank you to my love.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Twilight and all its characters belong to the genius Stephanie Meyer as do Supernatural to Eric Kripke and McG. I just like to let my imagination run wild from their genius.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – Deep in the Night<strong>

_Deep in the bosom of gentle night_

_Is when I search for the light_

_Pick up my pen and start to write_

_I struggle, fight dark forces in the clear moonlight_

_Without fear, insomnia, I can't get no sleep._

_Insomnia – Faithless_

My own scream tears me from sleep and I bolt out of bed. My feet hit the wooden floor with a dull thud. I don't even know why I'm bothering to look at the time. Two-thirteen in the morning, the same time I have woken up every night for the past six months. My heart is about to break through my chest. I can barely breathe. It feels like a big pair of non-existent arms are wrapped around my torso, squeezing, like someone holding me too tightly. My skin is covered with goose pebbled flesh that shivers with a cold I can't even overcome.

Slowly the pressure around my chest lifts, my breathing returns to normal and my heart rate slows down. Every night it's the exact same thing. I wake up screaming. I feel like I'm dying, suffocating. I can't fall asleep again and I lie in bed, in the dark, until I start becoming restless.

Usually I accept the inevitable and get out of bed. And tonight is no exception. I decide to get the washing done. Even if there's only enough for a small cycle, it's better than lying in bed, driving myself crazy.

I was really hoping for a good night's rest as I have a meeting with Dr. Carlisle Cullen before school. Charlie has been nagging me for months about going to see the new Dr. Cullen. Apparently, waking up screaming every night isn't normal. Finally, last week I raised my white flag and made an appointment with Dr. Miracle Worker Cullen. According to Google; Dr. Cullen is somewhat of an expert on night terrors and insomnia so what the hell? If it's going to get Charlie off my back, I might as well give it a try.

While the washing machine is spinning merrily away, I have a shower and go down to sit at the kitchen table and grade a few papers. I've been working at Forks High school for a little over year, joining my Alma Mater as their English Literature teacher after graduating from the University of Seattle. Having to read some poor, lost teenager's interpretation of Heathcliff and Catherine's relationship is becoming tedious. But it's a hell of a lot better than lying in bed, wondering why the hell I was awake.

At about five-thirty, I start getting breakfast ready for Charlie and myself. Charlie stopped waking up after the first three months of screaming. I think he may have started sleeping with ear plugs. I don't blame him. I wouldn't want to be woken every night either if I had any control over it.

"Good morning, Bells," Charlie says skulking into the kitchen. He's definitely not a morning person. "How did you sleep?"

"Ah, you know," I say, taking a sip of my coffee. "Same as always."

"You've got an appointment with Carlisle today, don't you?" he asks and I swear I can see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Yeah, it's for eight-thirty. The earliest appointment I could get." With a small smile on my face I add, "Apparently Dr. Amazing doesn't work at three am."

We have breakfast in silence. That's why I love Charlie. He doesn't have to fill the silences with useless chatter about nothing.

After a while, Charlie asks, "Bells?"

"Yes, Dad?" I ask, cocking my eyebrow, because I know he's got something up his sleeve.

"Are you going to tell Carlisle about Jacob?" It looks like he's expecting me to explode. I know it's a tender subject but it's not like I freak out every time I hear his name.

_It has been six months._

"No, I don't think so," I say calmly. "I don't see what it has to do with him."

"It may just have something to do with… your sleep _issues_."

"Sleep issues?"

_Really? So that's what we're calling it?_

"I don't think it does and that's all there is to it," I reply tersely.

Charlie looks like a kid who has just been caught with his hand in grandma's cookie jar. "Uh..." he starts but can't quite get the words out.

"No, Charlie! _Please,_ tell me you didn't?"

"Sorry Bells, but you know I've been hiking through the forest with Carlisle to all my favourite fishing spots for a couple of months now, and we always have so much time to kill. I couldn't help myself. He kept asking questions and… um… I'm sorry," he rattles off at 110 miles per hour.

"So, he knows, then?"

_Fuckity fuck FUCK!_

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"I really wasn't prepared to have to go through all of that again. I've spoken to a million health care professionals since that night." I let out a long frustrated sigh. "Seeing as you've already told him I don't see any reason why I need to go through it with him again. It has _nothing_ to do with him or anyone else in this town."

"You've got to, Bells." He says almost pleadingly. "At least promise me you'll still go and see him."

"Don't worry, Dad. I'm going," I say, bounding up the stairs to go get dressed. It's time to face the music and hopefully finally figure out a way to get some sleep.

This Dr. Cullen had better be the miracle worker everyone _thinks_ he is.

::::::::::

The drive to Forks General Hospital doesn't takes long, even at the snail's pace my old, red truck drives. If I didn't love the damn thing so much, I would have replaced it already, but it has so many memories attached to it. Charlie gave me this truck on my sixteenth birthday, to save me from the embarrassment of being dropped off by his police cruiser. I got my first kiss from Jake in this truck, and I can't even begin to remember the countless hours he spent under it, fixing this, tinkering with that.

In the past couple of months since Dr. Cullen and his wife moved back here, the hospital has experienced somewhat of a revival. Dr. Cullen has secured a couple of grants from the government and invested the money in new equipment. As I get out of my car, I look up at the twin columns, towering on either side of the entrance like sentinels. Forks Hospital was built at the turn of the century and still has its gothic feel. It looks almost eerie, like it knows something that it refuses to share with me.

Dr. Cullen's office is at the end of the corridor on level three, which used to be the psych ward. This ward was converted to offices in the late nineteen-eighties. As I walk through the door a friendly woman greets me with a warm smile.

"Hi, Bella."

Mrs. Cope worked at the school when I was a student there, but decided to go on to better things after Jake and his friends played a nasty prank on her, filling her air conditioner with millions of little pieces of paper. Oh, the look on her face when she turned the fan on and her office filled with small pieces of paper like snowflakes. Poor Mrs. Cope got pranked almost every day by Jake and his pack. Sometimes I wonder if Jake and his pack tormented her more than I was ever aware of.

I can feel my chest closing up as I think about Jacob and I push the memories down, refusing to go down that road.

"Hi, Shelley, how are you?" I ask, smiling at her. I'm honestly glad to see a friendly face. "You don't mind if I call you Shelley, do you?" I'm not a student anymore, so I don't see why I should follow the formality and respect that are expected of school kids.

"That's fine, Bella. Dr. Cullen had to step out quickly to go check up on a patient of his, but he said you could just wait inside his office," she says as she shows me through the door.

Dr. Cullen's office has a large mahogany desk set towards the back, with gorgeous leather chairs on either side. He has his framed qualifications from Oxford and Yale set on the wall behind it. I slowly turn, looking at the other walls.

_Wow_, I think. _He must love his art._

He has about a dozen gorgeous paintings framed, hanging everywhere. A few still lifes, a few that look like … is that a Gauguin? French impressionism, now that's impressive.

_I like a man with taste._

As I sit down on one of the leather chairs, Dr. Cullen walks in. "You must be Isabella?"

"It's Bella," I say, taking his outstretched hand.

"Sorry, Bella," he says, giving me the most tranquil but beautiful smile I've ever seen.

"You have definitely been spending too much time with Charlie. Only he calls me Isabella behind my back."

"So, Bella, what can I do for you?" He sits down across the desk, picks up a pen and waits for my reply.

I love it, and I mean love in a sarcastic way, when doctors ask you what they can do for you when they already know why you're there.

Smiling, I answer, hoping there is no sarcasm in my voice, "Oh, you know, I'm having a few little problems with sleep and waking up in the middle of the night, feeling like I'm dying."

"How long has this been happening to you?"

"About six months now." _Since _Jacob_, but I'm not going to tell him that._

"Could you tell me exactly what happens when you wake up?" And the twenty questions start.

"Um… well it's hard to explain, but I tend to wake up every night, quite suddenly."

"Do you wake up from having a nightmare?"

"I don't remember. I just wake up and feel like I can't breathe. My heart beat is really fast and my palms get sweaty. I wake up so abruptly that sometimes I even jump out of bed, usually screaming."

"I see." _What? What do you see?_ "Do you ever experience these symptoms during the day?"

"No, it has never happened to me during the day."

"Well, Bella, let's do a couple of routine checks, just to make sure that everything is okay. I'd like to do some blood work. How are you with needles?" he asks as if he already knows the answer.

"I'm okay with needles it's just blood that I'm not so great with."

"Blood?" Giving me a strange look, he asks, "How do you mean?"

"It's the smell. Like rust. I don't like it, it makes me feel faint." The smell can make me pass out depending on the size of the wound, but I'm not going to tell him that, either.

"I promise to keep it to a minimum. Could you roll up your sleeve for me?" And with that gorgeous smile of his on his face, I can't say no.

Dr. Cullen takes some blood and I even admit to myself that it isn't so bad. He continues checking my vitals; takes my blood pressure, listens to my heartbeat, checks my pulse, ears and throat. I'm surprised he doesn't check if my nose is damp like vets do with dogs. He asks me about me and my family's medical history. There really isn't much I can tell him. He knows my dad and my mother drowned when I was a baby.

"Well, everything looks normal to me." As I knew it would.

"Bella, there are a few things that could be causing your problem. You could be suffering from _Pavor Nocturnusor _most commonly called night terrors or Sleep Apnea and maybe a little insomnia caused by the night terrors or the Apnea," he says as a matter-of-fact, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Individuals who suffer from night terrors usually awake abruptly from slow-wave sleep which is usually accompanied by moaning or screaming."

He may as well be speaking Greek because I don't really understand what he is saying. "The only difference, however, is that usually, people suffering from night terrors settle back to sleep immediately, and that's why I think you're suffering from a little bit of insomnia, too.

"Sleep Apnea," he continues, "is when individuals wake from deep sleep since they have stopped breathing. That could explain your feelings of suffocation or pressure."

"Oh," is all I manage to say. "What can we do about it, Doctor?"

"I think it would be a good idea if we have you spend the night in the sleep lab sometime this week. We can hook you up to a few monitors that measure your breathing, REM cycle and brain activity, and have a look to see if we can find out why this is happening to you. Do you think you'd be up for it?" He asks it like he already knows the answer and to be honest, he does.

"If you think that would be the best course of action, why not."

He gives me such a huge smile that he reminds me of one of my students when I agree to give them an extension on one of their assignments.

I agree to check in on Friday evening, knowing that this is for the best, but I feel like all emotion has been drained from my body through my feet. If this is going to help me solve my sleep problems, why do I feel like I'm about to take a major exam? If I fail this exam, what then?

The week after my appointment with Dr. Cullen continues in much of the same manner as any other week in my life. I wake up at two-thirteen every night, screaming, moaning, out of breath, feeling like I'm being suffocated. I lie there for a varying amount of time and then give up and get out of bed. I make breakfast for Charlie and myself. I go to school and teach English. I come home, cook dinner and pass out dead tired, and the whole thing happens over and over again.

Charlie accompanies me to the sleep clinic on Friday which is on the same floor as Dr. Cullen's office. We're shown into the room in which I'll be spending the night by a non-descript girl, whose name I will never be able to remember, even if I'm tortured for the information. The room is cold, white, and typical for a hospital. A single raised bed stands in the centre of the room with chairs on either side of it, with a table on wheels at the foot of the bed. Charlie and I have barely settled in before Dr. Cullen and another man enters the room.

"Good evening, Isabella," Carlisle says with his customary calming smile. "This is Dr. Banner. He's our resident neurologist."

"It is nice to meet you, Dr. Banner." I give him my hand, in greeting and he smiles at me. It's one of those smiles that don't make it to the eyes.

"Nice to meet you, too, Miss Swan." He seems very formal. Okay, I guess I can live with that. "I'm going to run the Sleep Deprived Electroencephalograph to have a look at your brain function and ensure that you don't suffer from epilepsy, before Dr. Cullen does the customary sleep test," Dr. Banner rattles off while pushing his thick black rimmed glasses back with his middle finger_._

_Fuck you, too, buddy. I have no idea what you're talking about._

"What he means, Bella," Dr. Cullen offers. "Is that, sometimes night terrors, or night waking can be caused by epilepsy. So to be safe, we're going to make one hundred percent sure that you don't have a mild form of epilepsy by doing what is known as an Electroencephalograph or EEG." Thank goodness Dr. Cullen's bedside manner is perfect.

"Okay." It's all I manage to say. What more can I say? _No, forget it, let's all just go home? _Of course not! I actually _do_ want to figure out what's going on with me. "Wouldn't I have epileptic fits during the day as well if were an epileptic?"

"Not necessarily, Bella. You could have such a mild form of epilepsy that it may not be noticeable until you're in the restful state of sleep."

"And if it's not that?" I've gone from tongue tied, to curious toddler.

"Then we're going to do a sleep test, called Polysomnography, which is a test we use to determine if you're suffering from Sleep Apnea. Remember I told you about this the other day when you came to see me?" he explains it for Charlie's sake. "Sleep Apnea is when people wake up suddenly because they stop breathing."

Sitting down on the bed he looks at me intently. "Over the next couple of hours, Bella, we're going to observe your sleep patterns, brain waves, heart rate and rapid eye movements using monitoring devices attached to your body. I'm not going to promise you that it's going to be the best sleep in the world, because it's not going to be. Are you sure you're okay with all of this?"

"Honestly, Doctor? No, but what choice do I have?" I'm not going to lie. I'm really not looking forward to being treated like an experiment in a lab. I don't like the idea of people watching me that closely.

"I think six months is a long enough time to go with shitty sleep. If I don't do something about this now, I may never." I give Charlie a smile because I know he understands.

"Right," Carlisle says, standing up off the bed. "Let's get you hooked up. I hope you didn't bring your most revealing PJ's?" I'm sure he said that to try to help me relax. It doesn't work.

Charlie gives me a hug. "You be sure to call me to come and pick you up when you're done." It's not a question but an order. "Do you need me to stay with you while they attach everything?" He hates hospitals almost as much as I do. I asked him why once, all I got from him was that hospitals remind him of my mother.

"No thanks, Dad." I'm rolling my eyes. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. I'll see you tomorrow." He gives me kiss on my forehead and leaves me alone to get undressed and wait for the doctors to return.

I definitely didn't bring my most revealing pajamas, far from it. I've packed my baby blue cupcake print flannels. They're the most comfortable thing I own. While I wait for Drs. Cullen and Banner to return, I take out my copy of Wuthering Heights. I'm making my entire English class read it so I may as well brush up on it myself. I start to read,

_Look on the grave where thou must sleep_

_Thy last, and strongest foe;_

_It is endurance not to weep,_

_If that repose seem woe._

"Isabella?"

My heart almost leaps out of my chest with fright. I didn't hear Dr. Cullen come in. "Oh God!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you a fright." He smiles.

"That's alright. I just didn't hear you coming in."

"Interesting PJ's." He smirks at me, while taking in my cupcake flannels.

"They're comfortable and comforting," I say sullenly.

"Don't worry, Isabella, we'll figure this out." I think I've lost the battle trying to persuade him to call me Bella, I noticed that he reverted back to Isabella from the moment I walked in. It's pointless to correct him. "Dr. Banner will be back shortly to put on the cap and wires for the EEG. We're going to ask you to stay awake tonight until about midnight."

When Dr. Cullen said that Dr. Banner would be back with a cap, I didn't think he was being literal but Dr. Banner walks in with an actual cap in his hand. Luckily, I don't have to impress anyone tonight because it's the butt ugliest thing I have ever seen. It's a yellow cap that ties under the chin and looks like something someone would have worn in the days when everyone still swam in all of their clothes. The yellow cap is covered sporadically with little circular holes where I assume the electrodes go in.

Dr. Banner places the butt-ugly-yellow-cap on my head then fills each circular hole with a paste like substance before attaching each electrode. I look like I have wires growing out my head or I assume that I do because thankfully, they don't have any mirrors in the room.

"Ms. Swan, we need you to not speak in any way to anyone, not even to yourself. You will need to lie down on the bed and keep all stimulation to a minimum," he says, looking like my old Biology teacher. That guy took life so seriously that he colour coded his Petri dishes and I think Dr. Banner probably does, too.

"Does that mean I can't read?"

"Unfortunately, no," he leaves no room to argue. "I'll be here in the room with you for the next couple of hours and then a little later Dr. Cullen will be here."

"Is that really necessary?" I would prefer not to have semi- strangers sitting looking at me while I have to silently lie and stare at the ceiling.

"It is just a precaution for if you have an epileptic seizure or anything that needs immediate medical attention. Please lie down, try to relax but try not to fall asleep," he says, pointing at the bed.

I do as I am told and lie down. Dr. Banner sits on a chair in the corner of the room. It's the strangest feeling in the world to have someone just sitting there, staring at me and taking notes. I don't mind the fact that we're not making small talk, as I have never really been the type of person to fill the silences with my own insecurities, but it's still strange. The sound of pencil scratching words onto yellow notebook very nearly drives me crazy.

The hours feel like they're dragging by like a blind man trying to find his way through a forest. Slow and painful. My thoughts wander and I imagine myself walking through a dense forest at night trying to find my way home. I imagine the smell of wet moss, the feel of the ferns as they brush over my skin and the sound of animals scurrying around in the overgrowth.

At about midnight, Dr. Cullen walks in and whispers something to Dr. Banner who takes his leave. I don't know what it is about him but the moment he walks in, a sense of calm washes over me like soft small waves. The silence is finally broken by Dr. Cullen.

"Are you tired enough to sleep yet, Isabella?" he asks softly. _Stupid question, of course I'm tired._

"Most definitely," I say sitting up and stretching out.

"The data I've seen so far suggests that you don't have epilepsy, so I think it's time we start the Polysomnography." He walks over to me. "We have a few more wires to attach. The sleep technician will be here shortly to assist me."

Picking up my copy of Wuthering Heights Dr. Cullen says, "We'll be measuring all the biophysiological changes happening in your body as you fall asleep and during sleep. Good book." He smiles placing it back on the table.

"That it is," I say, smiling at him. "Does that mean I'm going to be allowed to sleep now?"

"Yes, but probably not very comfortably."

A small framed girl with short, chestnut hair walks into the room and smiles at me. She looks like she's about to throw her arms around me when Dr. Cullen introduces us. "Bella, this is my daughter, Alice. She's also the sleep technician in charge here."

"Hi, Bella," she sings, and with that she _does_ throw her arm around me, but as quickly as she hugs me, she lets go and takes three steps back.

"Hi, Alice. Nice to meet you." I can't help but wonder what the deal is with her. She's a bit... odd.

Dr. Cullen looks at her quizzically, almost like he knows what's going on with her but he says nothing. "Did you bring everything we need for the PSG?"

"Um... Y-yes." She is a very, _very_ strange person. She hands Dr. Cullen a box with a couple of dozen wires sticking out.

"Isabella, we're going to measure your breathing, chin movements, leg movements, and eye movements as well as attach sensors to measure your heart rate and rhythm. This belt," he continues as he holds up a belt that looks like a safety belt from a car, "We'll be putting it around your chest to measure movements."

Dr. Cullen and Alice start attaching all the additional electrodes, belt and wires to me. He sticks an electrode to my skin about one centimeter above the corner of my right eye and one about a centimeter below the corner of my left eye. Two electrodes are placed on my chin, one above and one below the jaw line.

Dr. Cullen turns his back when Alice lifts my PJ's to attach two electrodes on the left side of my chest. What's odd is that it seems like she's trying her best not to actually touch me. Why would she not want to touch me? It must be something to do with the tests, so I just shrug it off as she puts the belt Dr. Cullen showed me a little while ago around my chest.

"Could you take off your pants, please, Bella?" Alice asks with a voice that strangely reminds me of wind chimes.

I do as I'm asked, and she attaches two more electrodes to my legs. "You can get dressed now. Thanks, Bella." With that she turns around and walks out the door, stealing a look at me from the corner of her eyes before disappearing from view.

"Well, Isabella, it seems as if we've got you all hooked up," Dr. Cullen says and he starts moving toward the door. "Sleep tight then."

"Are you not staying?" I ask a little perplexed.

"No, there's no need for me to stay. We've got a camera in here." He points to the ceiling, towards a camera. "I'll be a few rooms down the hall keeping an eye on you and all the data."

"Oh, alright then." So I am a lab rat it seems.

"Good night, Isabella. I hope you have a restful night."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen, and good night."

He leaves the room and I climb into the covers, my body sliding between the cool sheets. Within seconds of laying my head on the pillow, I'm drifting into sleep.

::::::::::

"Isabella?" I hear a voice, but it's just a whisper. "Bella?" the same voice a little louder. I don't want to wake up. _Who would be waking me up?_

"Bellllllaaaa?" It's Alice's wind chime voice. I slowly roll over and open my eyes.

"Good morning, Alice. What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock."

"Wait, what?" I sit bolt upright in the bed.

It _can't_ be... _did I just sleep without waking up?_

"Let's get all those wires and electrodes off you, and then you can go home." Alice takes a step back as I swing my legs around, almost like she's afraid of me. Yeah, she's odd but I'm not going to let that worry me. I slept, and slept well. I almost feel like a new person.

With a pull here and there Alice helps me get all the wires off. "You just need to sign a release form and you're good to go home. Dad... um... I mean, Dr. Cullen has already let your father know that he can come and pick you up. Charlie will be here shortly." She walks out of the room without another word to me. Definitely strange.

I take a shower while I wait for Charlie to get here. I'd rather wash all memories of spending a night in a hospital off my skin. I'm running a comb through my hair when Charlie walks into my room.

"You ready to go home, Bells?" he asks and picks up my overnight bag.

"Sure am, let's go." I say, turning to walk out of the room in which I had the best night's sleep in more than six months.

We arrive home a short time after. Charlie stops the police cruiser outside the house in which we've lived for more than eighteen years.

"Did you want me to come in with you before I go back to the station?"

"No thanks, Dad. I'm fine." I open the door to climb out. "See you tonight, okay?"

I'm looking forward to a relaxing Saturday at home without anybody to worry about. I unlock the door with my key and step through. I turn around and wave at Charlie as he drives off. I close the door and rest my forehead against it, sighing deeply. I'm allowed five seconds of peace before the nightmare starts.

Suddenly, I feel a pair of big, cold hands wrap around my throat.

They're squeezing.

I try to take in a deep breath but…

I... can't... breathe…

I try to move but I'm immobile.

My heart is doing double time in my chest.

Every instinct is telling me to _fight_.

It feels like someone is pinning me to the door and the person is closing their big hands around my throat, tighter and tighter. I can feel myself slipping away.

"No!" I try to scream, but my voice comes out in a hoarse rasp.

I'm fading…

Fading…

There's no more light, only black, as I lose my conscious grip on the world.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: It wouldn't be any fun without a cliffie, now would it? Please review and let me know what you think? Who or what do you think it is?<strong>


	3. Chapter 2 - Up All Night

Thank you to Saharadesiderate for the Beta. Anyone up for being another set of eyes? PM me.

Time to meet the boys...

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Twilight and all its characters belong to the genius Stephanie Meyer as do Supernatural to Eric Kripke and McG. But I sure do love how they inspire my senses.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Up All Night<strong>

When evening comes, I am alive

I love to prowl around in the streets

It's the moonlight that controls my mind

Now I've got the power to speak

Awake from dusk to dawn

Slaughter - Up All Night

I throw myself into the diner cubicle across from Emmett as he takes another bite of the Pancake Special he ordered another helping of.

"What the fuck, Emmett! You've had like seven servings of pancake since we got here. I swear you're eating like we've never seen pancakes before."

"What?" he says with a dorky grin "Dude, these pancakes are to die for." He takes another bite and grins at me while he chews.

"Yeah, if you're not careful you're going to die of gluttony." The amount of food my brother can eat is astounding. It actually puts me off my food. No wonder he is twice the size of me. It's a good thing we don't live sedentary lives working desk jobs or he'd be a heart attack waiting to happen.

"I had a little chat with the hottie over there," he says pointing with his fork to a waitress whose uniform is way too short, "and she tells me that for the past couple of years a few brides-to-be have ended up dead before they made it to the altar."

"An old lady at the bus stop tells me it has been happening since 1933," I say stealing his last bite. He tries to punch me, but I'm way too fast and evade his fist. We both look up as the bell on the diner door chimes and Jasper walks through the door.

"Find out anything interesting, Jazz?" I ask moving over to make space for him to sit down.

"Please tell me he's not still eating pancakes?" Jasper gapes in wonder. He too finds my brothers eating habits largely disturbing.

"He's not eating pancakes anymore," I say maniacally, because, well, technically it is the truth. "What did you come up with?"

"Town hall keeps interesting records," Jazz says smirking at me.

"Don't make me punch you, dude!" I say gruffly. I'm not the poster boy for patience.

"Okay, okay don't get your panties in a twist there Miss Edina." I have no idea if he's trying to be amusing or not, but I'm not laughing.

"According to the records I found in Town Hall Archives, the killings seem to have been happening almost yearly since 1933," he says looking really proud of himself.

"Hey Edward, isn't that what the old lady at the bus stop told you?" Emmett asks looking really proud of himself now. _Am I the only one taking this hunt seriously here?_

"Which one of you am I going to punch first?" I ask rolling my long fingers into a fist, ready to punch the next one to say something idiotic.

We've been stuck in Pittsburgh for a week already trying to find whatever or whoever is responsible for a spate of killings. Over the past couple of years almost like clockwork, brides have been found the night before their wedding, beaten to death. The police haven't been able to arrest anyone for the crimes. No evidence has ever been found and that's where we come in.

Ever since we could each hold a gun we've been hunters. Hell, we've been hunting since the day we could do any amount of damage. Our father has been a hunter since before we were born. We hunt what the majority of the population still believe is only legend. Ghosts, ghouls, shape shifters, werewolves, vampires and all the hundreds of different demons out there in this world, if you've seen it on Harry Potter, sure enough we've probably faced it and yes, contrary to popular belief, this shit is real.

Very few people in the world know of the existence of paranormal entities and even less know of _our_ existence, but those who do often let us know when something foul is at play. That's how we got here. Our friend Charlotte is getting married in a few days, so she called us not wanting to get beaten to death the night before her wedding.

"Geez, Edward, you're wound up tighter than Frankenstein's bride," Jasper says, as he looks at the Tom's Diner menu.

"Yeah, I know," I say, running my hand through my unruly hair. "It's Charlotte's life we're dealing with here. If we don't figure out what's doing this, her life could be at risk."

"Dude, seriously?" Emmett looks at me like I'm freaking out over spilt milk. "Relax already, Char can always postpone her wedding or get married somewhere else."

"She could, but it would just be unfair to expect her to get married in another city when all her family is here and what about any brides after Char?"

I hit the table with the flat of my hand. A few people look up as the sound echoes through the diner. We've known Charlotte ever since we were teenagers, when we spent a couple months here.

Jazz looks up from the menu, "I hope you're not too stuffed from all the pancakes you've eaten, Emmett?"

"Nope," Emmett says ending the word with a popping sound and patting his stomach. "In fact, I was thinking of ordering some more."

"Just leave a little space over for dinner," Jasper says as he puts the menu away. "If you eat anymore pancakes Tom's Diner is going to award you their customer of the month award. Where are you putting them anyway, Em? There's no way in Hell you've ingested all that and not been sick."

Jazz's sudden interest in Emmett's bizarre eating habits tips me off. I know he's hiding something, so I ask, "What are we doing for dinner, Jazz?"

"We're going to Epiphany's famous fish fry tonight."

"And why are we going to be doing that?" I ask intrigued.

"Not only did I find out that the killings started happening in nineteen-thirty-three but it seems that the killings have been isolated to brides who plan to get married at Epiphany Catholic Church." I smile at him because that is an awesome lead.

"Good work, Jazz! So what time is the fish fry?" I ask looking up to find Emmett winking at the short skirted waitress.

"Seven."

"Come on then, let's go." I say starting to move.

"Hang on there, Gunslinger. It's way too early. I was hoping to have some of Mama's Stuffed Banana Peppers before we go and I'm sure Emmett is about to score with the hottie over there," he says with a smirk, as he gets said hottie's attention to place an order.

"Fine, whatever," I huff as I boot up my MacBook to do some research.

::::::::::

It's an exceptionally cold November evening when we arrive at Epiphany Catholic Church. A few people have already gathered around the red brick building chatting over steaming cups of hot chocolate and nibbling on fish fry.

We each go our separate way. We've learnt through experience that people talk to us more freely if we're not standing together. I'm standing admiring one of the stained glass windows when from behind me someone says, "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

I turn around to find a middle aged Priest looking at me with a friendly smile on his face.

"That she is, Father." I glance up at the elaborate stained glass window one last time before giving him my undivided attention. There has always been something about churches that send chills running up my spine. Some churches look like they have a soul, as if their emptiness is begging to be filled.

"Her towers have been keeping a watchful eye over Epiphany's parishioners since 1902," he says, walking towards me and extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Father Kavanagh."

He looks like he's in his late fifties. His long slender figure is accentuated by his cassock. His thinning hair with its grey at the temples makes him look wise and fatherly.

"Hi," I say taking his hand. "Edward Strum." I give him a fake name. That's how we've always do it. We don't want people to be able to track us down later. Ever since I can remember my brothers and I have preferred to use the surnames of rock musicians. I suppose it's our way of having fun.

"I haven't seen you around here before son, are you new to the area?"

"Uhm, you could say that." I lie to him. I prefer to be as honest as possible to men of the cloth. Just because I don't believe in God, doesn't mean I disrespected the belief. "I'm here for a friend's wedding."

"You're talking about Ms. Joel and Mr. Johnson's wedding, aren't you?"

_How the hell did he guess that?_

"How did you know that?" I ask, feeling the frown lines slowly creeping across my forehead.

"Their wedding is the only one we've got scheduled for the next three months," he says with a dark look crossing his wrinkled face.

"That's very strange." I'm glad he opened the door for me to ask a few questions. "It's such a beautiful church, why don't you have more weddings booked here?"

"I suppose it's a combination of the time of the year and the fact that many of our parishioners believe that Epiphany's is cursed over the holidays."

"I don't understand Father, why would people believe that the church is cursed?" I ask him with a straight face but internally I'm giving myself high fives because he's spewing information.

As he walks towards the drinks table, he passes me a hot chocolate and hesitantly says, "Many unfortunate souls have had their lives cut short before they were able to take their vows here at Epiphany's."

I'm not going to allow him to leave it as cryptically as he is, so instead I ask, "How do you mean Father?"

"For the past few decades," he says sighing deeply, almost like it's a relief to finally be able to tell someone about this, "brides who have been planning on getting married here at Epiphany were found beaten to death in the days leading up to their wedding."

"Sounds like Epiphany has been having some bad luck, Father," I say taking a sip of the sweet, hot chocolate. If only it had some rum in it, that would have been perfect. "Do you remember when this happened for the first time father?"

"It was long before I was called to the Lord, but my predecessor told me that the first time this happened was to a young socialite called Rosalie Hale sometime in the 1930's."

_Score! We have a name! Rosalie Hale. _Internally I'm doing a little touchdown dance.

"What happened to her, Father?"

"If I'm not mistaken her fiancé Royce King and a few of his friends raped her and beat her to death a week out from their wedding." The forlorn look that crosses the priest face makes me realize that he was grieving for the suffering of a woman he has never met.

He continues, "He was found about a year later in a catatonic state next to the body of his fiancé's beaten body. He spent the rest of his days in an asylum."

Father Kavanagh wrings his hands together in distress. I can tell he has his theories as to what is happening, but being a man of the cloth, he is unable to vocalize them.

_Fear not, Father. That's why I'm here_, I think, as I offer the priest my hand respectfully in farewell.

"Thank you, Father..." I say as he willingly shakes my hand. I start looking for Em and Jazz, my eyes scanning the crowd, "for the fish fry and the hot chocolate. I'll see you at the wedding."

"Good to meet you Mister Strum. See you at the wedding."

As I walk away running my hands through my hair, all I see is the look of a worried man.

_Yes, Father, I'm worried about Charlotte, too. I have got to save her. I refuse to lose an innocent life._

I find Emmett chatting up the girl with the shortest dress here, and Jasper is chatting to a few older women making them giggle by being his charming self. When Jazz sees me he makes his apologies to the ladies and walks over.

"So what have you found out? You seemed to be having a nice chat there with the Padre," he suggests with a raised eyebrow.

"I got a name," I say with the hugest grin I can manage without freezing my teeth off. "Rosalie Hale."

::::::

We are sitting in the Impala, waiting outside of Charlotte's house for the greater part of the night when all of a sudden we hear a high pitched scream coming from the second story.

"The EMF is going crazy man!" Jasper shouts as we all jump out of the car heading for the house. The EMF detector picks up any electromagnetic field emitted by ghosts so if it's going crazy it means that a ghost is close, real close.

Emmett runs round the back of the house just in case something or someone decides to exit that way. As Jasper and I enter the front door we hear Charlotte scream, "Get out you bitch!"

Both of us ascend three stairs at a time trying to make it to her in record time. I don't even want to entertain the thought of not making it. Jasper stops next to the bedroom door. Good thing I watch him closely or I would have slammed into him.

We heard Charlotte whimper and Jasper cocks his sawn off shotgun and is ready to go. I don't hesitate at all, I just burst through the door with my coach gun, ready to do some damage.

I see a flickering image of a gorgeous blond women dressed in a white lace, full length, flowing, wedding dress moving towards Charlotte who is crouched in the corner. She turns around and glares at me. Before I have a chance to react she's right in front of me, and I'm flying through the air, my body hitting the wall violently. Thankfully, before she can come at me again Jasper fires a shot at her and her image starts to flicker like an old damaged movie reel and she disappears.

"Char, are you okay?" Jasper asks and she throws herself into his arms sobbing uncontrollably.

"Fuck Jazz, I thought I was going to die!" she says, sobbing into his shoulder. "I'm so fucking glad I called you guys."

"It's alright Char," Jasper assures her, gently patting her on the back. "Everything will be all right. We're here now." He looks at me where I'm sitting slumped against Charlotte's bedroom door and asks, "You okay?"

"Yeah dude, I'm fine," I reply, getting up from my position on the floor. "I've been worse."

"I knew there was something going on here that wasn't normal," Charlotte says wiping the tears from her eyes.

"You were right." Jazz and I lead her to the bed and I ask, "What happened, Char?"

"Something woke me up. I don't know if it was her or my subconscious telling me that something was about to happen, but something woke me up."

She looks up at me from her seated position on the bed. She looks scared. I can't say that I blame her. If some crazed bitch in a wedding dress turned up in my bedroom in the middle of the night I'd be scared too. Actually no, I wouldn't. I'd kick her ass, but if I had grown up in a different family than the one I have, I can imagine that it would have freaked me the fuck out.

"So I got up to go get a glass of water and all of a sudden she was standing there. She was wearing a fucking wedding dress, Edward. A wedding dress!" It sounds like she's about to lose her shit.

"Calm down, Char!" I wrap my arm around her shoulder and say in as calm a voice as I can muster "The Masen boys are here and we won't let anything happen to you." I give her my wicked grin, the same one I use when I want to charm the pants off someone… or information out of someone.

She gives me a weak smile, "Thanks, Edward. I have no idea how I'm going to repay you."

"That won't be necessary. It's all part of the job, you know that."

At that moment, Emmett comes bounding through the door as if he's hoping to still get in on the action.

"Whoa, Char, you look like shit!" Tact has never been one of Emmett's strengths.

"Dammit, Emmett, next you're going to tell our little bride-to-be here that she's going to look fat on her wedding day." I sit down next to Charlotte shaking my head at him.

"Sorry, Char," he says like a child who has just been reprimanded. "You look beautiful and you're not fat at all.

"Emmett..."

"What?" he asks. He doesn't seem to quite get what I'm trying to tell him. "So, Edward, did you get in on some action?"

"I think we can confirm that all of the killings have been due to a vengeful spirit. We've met the bitch from hell." I think _bitch from hell_ may be an understatement for her.

"Was she here?"

"I came in just in time to stop her from doing any sort of damage to Charlotte here."

Charlotte lets out a sob and I realize that I may be discussing something a little too close to home for her.

"Sorry, Charlotte," I apologize to her.

"Now, if we can get Jasper to apologize I'll have a hat-trick of _sorry's_ from the Masen boys." Charlotte burst out laughing. We can't help it, her laughter is infectious and both Emmett and I start laughing.

"You missed the best bit though, Em" Jasper says with a smile I know all too well. He's about to give me shit. "Edward got his ass beaten by a chick."

Emmett starts laughing so loud I wouldn't be surprised if the neighbors wake up, "No way! What happened?"

"Chucky's Bride threw his sorry-excuse-for-a-hunter ass through the air, into the wall. Luckily for him, I was around the corner, and my shotgun was happy to send some rock salt her way."

"Rock Salt?" Charlotte asks. "I was wondering why there wasn't a bullet hole in my wall after you shot her."

"Yeah," I answer, "Rock salt is a natural mineral and a deterrent. It has the power of forcing ghosts to disappear, basically forcing them to dissolve. It can also protect by forming a barrier or border. Evil spirits and demons can't cross it without having to count every grain."

"Salt is pure, evil hates pure," Emmett adds, "So it wouldn't be a bad idea to line your windows and doors with salt. It's going to be a pain to clean up eventually but it'll keep the Corpse Bride away from you."

"Talking of Corpse Brides," I say, walking to the window. "I think it's time we track down Ms. Rosalie Hale and go and deep fry her ass." A smile spreads across my face at the thought of helping this bitch move on.

Before we leave to track down Rosalie's grave we help Charlotte line all her windows and doors with salt.

"Thanks boys," she says giving us each a hug in turn. "The wedding is in a few days. I really hope you find her soon so I can get some sleep. We don't want _me_ looking like a ghost at my wedding, do we? Because I'd have to come and haunt you guys if my wedding gets messed up. And don't forget I know where you're most ticklish."

I've always loved Charlotte's ability to make a joke of anything. She has the biggest heart. Her short blond curls remind me of Marilyn Monroe, and fit her petite frame perfectly. Her fiancé Peter is a six-foot-three giant against her five-foot-one frame. It is extremely obvious to me that he loves her more than anything and she loves him back with every fiber of her being. I know that I will never be able to experience a love as pure as theirs, so sharing their wedding with them is my way of living vicariously. Love just isn't in the cards for me and I've made my peace with that.

"Don't worry, Char, we'll get this bitch before the night is out."

::::::::::

The greatest thing about being a hunter in the twenty- first Century is technology. There is very little information that we can't track down on the World Wide Web. Unfortunately, a lot of really old records are not kept on the web, which often means that we have to sweet talk someone or break into places. We've done it so often that the fact that we're at Pittsburgh Town Hall picking the lock to the door leading to the archives is as normal as eating.

"Come on you bitch, open up," Jasper angrily whispers as a clicking sound can be heard. "Score!"

It doesn't take us long to track down the deaths register for 1933 thanks to the fact that Jazz was able to see where they were kept when he came in this morning. Finding Rosalie Hale's name is a little harder. Scanning the register I try to find Rosalie's name. _Ethel, George, Harriot, Mary, Sarah, Elizabeth, Rosalie._ There we go.

"Found her, Jazz." I say as I high five him. We may have done this a hundred times but it's still a great feeling when we find the information we need. "She's buried in Allegheny Cemetery in Lawrenceville."

We leave everything as we found it and exit the same way we came in, jumping into the waiting Impala with Emmett as our getaway driver.

"Where to?" Emmett asks as he navigates down Grant Street. Pittsburgh City Centre is completely deserted and eerily dark.

"Towards Lawrenceville. There's a cemetery called Allegheny." I answer, as I turn to my MacBook. "Give me a couple of seconds while I Google it."

Sure enough, Allegheny has its own web page. Their web page even has a handy dandy search function that helps me locate where Rosalie's grave is. I give Emmett directions as we speed towards the garden cemetery.

"She's in section twenty-two, Lot three-oh- three, Grave one," I advise my brothers as we stop outside of Allegheny's gates. The cream colored stone gate looks more like a medieval castle. According to their website this cemetery's first internment occurred in 1845 making it one of the oldest cemeteries in the States.

All three of us get out of the Impala into the frigid, dark, night. No sounds can be heard coming from the surrounding suburb, just the sound of leaves moving in the soft arctic breeze. Emmett makes quick work of the lock on the gate while Jasper and I load up on shovels, weapons and lighter fuel.

Emmett smacks his hands together and says with a laugh, "Is it time for the Barbie-Q?"

Allegheny is one of those beautifully peaceful cemeteries, where families come for a Sunday stroll, where fathers teach their daughters how to drive, and where many a teenager have their first drink, kiss or joint. The trees spire forebodingly above us as we walk through the graveyard and over its rolling hills towards Rosalie's grave. After half an hour of searching we find her grave next to Abolitionist Jane Grey Swisshelm's. A beautiful lime headstone marks where her body was laid to rest.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale, born 1915, died 1933, beloved, beautiful, daughter and fiancé." Jasper reads. "It's horrible to think that her fiancé and a group of his friends put her in that grave. Not ghosts. Not ghouls."

He's always been the sensitive one. "Harden up there princess and start digging," I say, tossing one of the shovels at him. "It's going to take us a couple of hours to get six feet down and we've got to get this done before dawn."

As I predicted after a couple of hours of digging we hear the dull thud of the shovel against wood. I fall down on my knees and start clearing the dirt away to try to find the opening. I run my fingers over the edge in a line down the side until I find the latch and pop the casket open. The smell of Rosalie's decomposed corpse escaping from the open lid is almost overwhelming. It knocks my breath away, and I have to turn my head to get some fresh air.

I pull myself out of the grave to where Jasper and Emmett are already waiting with lighter fluid in hand. As we start dousing Rosalie's bones we hear a high pitched scream coming from the trees behind us, and in unison we spin around to find the ghost of Rosalie Hale glaring at us.

Jasper fires a shot of rock salt but misses as she disappears before he can find purchase. Emmett and Jasper stand back to back prepared for her return while I continue soaking her bones with lighter fluid.

I'm about to start the incantation when Rosalie's flickering image appears right in front of Emmett. She screeches and raises both her arms above her head like talons about to come down and do some damage to him. And what does Emmett do? He freaking smiles his big ass dimpled grin at her and she stops. She's stands completely still looking at him like he's her lover. I can almost imagine them together if it had been different circumstances.

He must be crazy because the next thing he does is say, "Hi there, beautiful." I swear if a ghost could have blushed she would have.

She looks at him as if he has said the most beautiful words in the world to her.

"Why are you doing this, lovely?" Emmett asks cocking his head to the side.

"Don't you see? They have everything. They have a whole life ahead of them. They have... everything I want," Rosalie screeches in response to Emmett's question looking.

I decide to take the time while she's distracted by Emmett to start the incantation.

"_Cinis cineris, ut cinis cineris. Pulvis et pulvis per illa flamma existo solve o quis redimio vos hic may venia succurro vos reperio pacis phasmatis is absum_." I say and throw a match into the grave. Rosalie screams and her ghost erupts into a devouring blue flame. Just before she disappears completely I add "_Repio pacis_." _Rest in peace Rosalie._

"Fuck Emmett! What the fuck were you thinking?"

"What? She was hot. I thought I'd say hi," he answers me and adds with a pat on my shoulder "Besides I thought I'd keep her busy so she didn't go throwing you around again."

"God dammit, Emmett! If you don't start taking these hunts seriously you're going to get yourself killed."

I don't know why I always have to be the responsible one in this family. I suppose it's just the way our father raised me. Countless hours of training, saying the same words over and over.

"_Their lives will be in your hands, Edward. You will be the difference between life and death. Now do another hundred push-ups."_

Jasper has already picked up the shovels and is returning the soil to the grave when my cell phone rings.

"Masen." _Who would be calling me at this hour?_

"Edward, I need your help."

Looking up at Jasper and Emmett I say, "Carlisle, what's wrong?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Soooooo, what do you think? Please review and let me know. <strong>

**I know that you were hoping to find out what's happened to Bella and I truly am sorry (not sorry) for keeping you hanging but I had to introduce the Masen Boys. I promise, chapter 3 isn't too far off.**

**And for those of you who may be wondering - **

_**Cinis cineris, ut cinis cineris. Pulvis et pulvis per illa flamma existo solve o quis redimio vos hic may venia succurro vos reperio pacis phasmatis is absum**_

**Translates roughly to: Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, with these flames be free of the chains that bind you here, may forgiveness help you find peace, spirit be gone.**


	4. Chapter 3 - Early Morning Light

**Thank you to Saharadesiderata and I2want2knowu for the Beta. If you're a grammar nazi and you might maybe want to join my team, please PM me. **

**And thank you to each and every one of you who left a review and/ or alerted this fic.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Twilight and all its characters belong to the genius Stephanie Meyer as do Supernatural to Eric Kripke and McG.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 3 - Early Morning Light<p>

Come & lay down by my side

Till early morning light

All I'm taking is your time

Help me make it through the night

I don't care if it's right or wrong,

I want to try to understand

Kris Kristofferson - Help me make it through the night

"Bella?"

I hear my father's concerned voice at the very edge of my consciousness. I know I need to acknowledge him, let him know that I heard him but I can't. The darkness is a heavy hand pushing me back to oblivion.

"Bella, can you hear me?"

This time it's a softer, gentler voice trying to get me to return to awareness. I recognize the voice from somewhere but I can't seem to remember from where.

"Carlisle, is she... is she going to be all right?" I can hear anxiety lacing my father's voice and I know that I'm the one causing it; but I still just can't seem to open my eyes or move any part of my body.

"She'll be fine, Charlie," Carlisle reassures my father. "All her vitals are normal. She's breathing and I'm almost sure she's awake. Just give her a little bit more time."

Awake? Carlisle thinks I'm awake. I don't feel awake. I feel numb and cold. Am I cold because I'm dead or because I'm lying on the cold floor? I can't tell. My mind feels muddled and confused.

I slowly start feeling the hard surface I'm lying on become harder, colder, more unforgiving and I can't stop the moan escaping from my lips.

"Bella?" the panic in Charlie's voice is palpable; it hangs in the air like a cloud. "Bells, baby, are you awake? Say something."

I want to tell Charlie 'no, I'm not okay. I'm cold. I'm fucking scared', but I can't seem to get anything out of my mouth apart from the moans.

"Charlie, let's move her. Let's get her somewhere a little more comfortable," Carlisle instructs Charlie with a firm but caring voice.

"Yes, Carlisle, whatever you think is best." Well now, I've never seen or heard this side of Charlie before. He's usually the one giving the orders. He must be freaking out. I feel two pairs of arms lift me off the ground and almost instantly feel warmer. With arms holding me tightly, I am quickly lowered onto a soft, comfortable surface. Something soft is pulled over my body and I feel myself warming more and more by the second.

I focus all my energy on my eyelids to force them to open. The first thing I see is my father's mustached, concerned face staring back at me. Distress is etched in every wrinkle on his face, as if someone got to him with a magic marker.

"Bella, you're okay!" he sighs before taking my hand in his, patting it. He is worried. I can see it in every fiber of his being, in the tautness of his shoulders, in his clipped speech and I know that I'm the one causing him to worry.

"How are you feeling, Isabella?" Carlisle asks, touching my forehead as if he's checking for a fever. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"I don't know..." I reply with a weak voice. "Someone... something... I don't know... I uhm… just passed out." I feel like I could cry but I refuse to allow tears to escape and make my father worry even more.

"That's okay, Bella. You're safe now."

"When did you get back?" I ask in the hope of eliciting some information about what happened.

"I got back home after finishing my meeting at the station and found you unconscious, just inside the front door," he says squeezing the hand he hasn't let go of. "I couldn't get you to wake up so I called Carlisle here."

"Thanks Dad, that's good," I try to reassure him because he looks like he is expecting me to freak out for involving Carlisle. "Uhm... was anybody here when ... you came in?" I ask hesitantly.

Charlie shoots up from his position next to me almost knocking the coffee table over, my hand slipping from his as he puts distance between us.

"What?" he shouts. "Did someone do this to you? I'll fucking kill the bastard!"

"No, no, no, Dad! Calm down. Relax," I say, trying to calm him down. As I'm about to get up from the couch, Carlisle walks over to Charlie and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down, Charlie," he says reassuringly. "You're scaring the girl."

_The girl? What the hell, am I like eleven?_

"Relax Dad, no one hurt me. I'm just a little confused. I think... I don't know, I just passed out."

Finally, Charlie calms down and returns to his position next to me on the couch. With a look laced with far too much concern for my liking Charlie asks, "Is she going to be alright, Carlisle?"

"She'll be fine." Carlisle answers, turning to me and saying, "Bella, I'm sorry that I wasn't there when you woke up this morning. I was... uhm...in a very important meeting." I can see something in his eyes that tell me there is a lot more behind what he's saying. What's even more interesting is the fact that Charlie suddenly clears his throat and Carlisle looks at him fleetingly as if acknowledging something.

"The tests we ran yesterday show that you're not suffering from epilepsy or sleep apnea. But we haven't been able to rule out a panic disorder or insomnia yet," he looks at me intensely and says, "Bella, we may have to run a few more tests. We have to rule out all bio-psycho-social influences."

"Uhm, okay," I reply. "I really would prefer not to have to do anymore tests, doctor." A frown is slowly spreading across my face. I really don't relish the idea of being a Guinea pig any more than I have to. I don't like all this attention at all.

"I understand Isabella, I'm considering running a few tests here at home." The way he says it makes me feel like he's almost apprehensive. "When you came into the hospital the test results showed nothing but a normal sleeping pattern. I was thinking that if we did tests in your home they may yield different results."

"Okay, I can do home." It feels like Dr. Cullen has slid one past me. I think he may have expected me to oppose undergoing tests in own home. Under normal circumstances I would have, but after what happened this morning I'm willing to do whatever is needed.

"What exactly did you have in mind, Dr. Cullen?" I ask with a sense of trepidation.

Looking at me apprehensively he starts to explain, "I don't think it would be necessary to do anything as involved as the tests we did in the hospital. I'd like to start by putting a camera or two up in your room to record what happens before, during and after you wake up and maybe just a heart monitor. Would that be okay with you?"

Sinking into the coach, I let out a sigh of resignation... "I don't really have a choice here, doctor. I really do want to figure out what's going on. So yes, it's okay with me."

Charlie is staring at Carlisle in the oddest way and I get the strangest feeling that he's not entirely happy with what Dr. Feelgood is proposing to do.

"Is it really necessary, Carlisle?" Charlie asks, but it looks like he's trying to communicate something much more with his dagger stare.

"Yes, it is Charlie," Dr. Cullen says very curtly. I wonder what's going on between these two. Did Charlie have plans to go fishing that Dr. Cullen is now putting an end to? The only thing my father ever gets upset about is missing a fishing trip.

I look at the silent exchange between them for a moment longer, cocking my eyebrow before deciding to shrug it off. I'm sure it's nothing, just fishing issues.

"Did you want to do it tonight, doctor?" I ask, looking away from my father's serious face to Carlisle's softer expression.

"I don't see why not," he answers. "I'll go pick up a few things from the hospital and be back before night fall." He extends his hand to Charlie in greeting. "See you later, Charlie."

Very hesitantly my father takes Carlisle's hand and shakes it good bye, but he holds on to it for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Why do men always have to be so damned competitive that a normal handshake can turn into a pissing contest? Carlisle lets himself out and my father squeezes my hand one last time before getting up and asking, "Do you want something to eat, Bells?"

"I'm fine Cha-, Dad."

"You have to eat, Bells. I'll make you a grilled cheese sandwich, okay?"

"Whatever," I reply giving up on the fight before it started. "So what's going on between you and the doctor?

Charlie stops what he's doing but doesn't turn around to face me and stands immobile for a few seconds before answering,

"I just don't know about this... doing tests at home, Bells."

"You're the one who insisted that I had to go meet with Dr. Miracle Worker," I say, pointing out to him that it was his idea after all.

Charlie hounded me for weeks on end to see Dr. Cullen about my sleep issues. I refused because I didn't want the unnecessary attention, but after six months of fitful sleep I acquiesced. One can only go without sleep for so long. My lack of sleep has started influencing my day to day life. I am constantly tired, my concentration levels are almost non-existent and sometimes, I have even thought that I am seeing things. Nothing serious, just things like people in my peripheral vision but when I turn my head to face them they won't be there.

"That's not the point here," Charlie says while he flips the grilled cheese. The smell of the grilled cheese is making my stomach rumble. "You've been to him. You've done the tests and the tests showed nothing. I just don't see how it will help for him to come into our home."

"Well Dad, he's coming. So, best you make your peace with it and play nice when he returns."

Charlie just grumbles his response and I turn away smiling because I know he'll be civil. Charlie's never been an unreasonable man.

A few minutes later, Charlie places a plate with the still warm grilled cheese sandwich in front of me. Suddenly, I'm so hungry I could eat a mountain of grilled cheese sandwiches. My mouth instantly salivates. Apparently grilled cheese turns me into Pavlov's slobbering dog.

"Thanks Dad. I'm definitely going to enjoy this." I take a bite and Charlie sits down next to me with his grilled cheese.

"Bells, just promise me that you won't do anything you don't feel entirely comfortable with?"

"Oh Dad," I say frowning at him.

"Just promise me," he says in that fatherly tone that you know you have no room for argument.

"Okay, okay, I promise," I say, more to get him off my back than to make a promise.

"Thanks Bells," he sighs placing his hand over mine. "You'll see that everything will work out fine." It sounds more like he's trying to convince himself than console me.

"I know Dad, I know."

::::::::::

It is a little after sunset when Dr. Cullen knocks on the door. I'm about to remove my hands from the dishwater when Charlie comes bounding in from the den saying that he'll get it. There is a Mariners game on television, so the fact that Charlie has actually extracted himself from his ass groove on the coach is a little strange. Charlie doesn't let Carlisle in but instead goes outside, closing the door behind him. I can hear them having what sounds like a heated discussion but I'm unable to hear what they're saying. Things between these two seem to be getting stranger and stranger as the day is progressing. I wonder if I'm going to have to sit the two of them down at the kitchen table and get them to discuss what the hell is going on.

I'm about to open the door to enquire what they are doing outside when Charlie opens the door and the two of them come walking in, laughing loudly as if sharing a joke.

"Good evening, Isabella." Carlisle says, tipping his head slightly.

"Good evening to you too, Dr. Cullen, is everything okay with you two?" I ask, cocking my eyebrow with my best disciplinary teacher's expression firmly in place.

"Yeah, all is fine. You're father just wanted to share a joke with me that he felt wasn't appropriate for a young ladies ears," Carlisle says looking at my father smiling. I believe him, _not_! What am I? A naive thirteen year old who hasn't heard a dirty joke before?

Dr. Cullen places a big box with what looks like various gadgets on the kitchen table and turns to me asking, "Are you ready for us to set up and get started?"

"As ready as I'll ever be Dr. Cullen."

"You know, you can call me Carlisle? Everyone else does. Dr. Cullen makes me sound like a gray old man." He grins at his own joke because he's far from old and he knows it.

"I'll make you a deal," I say with a plan. "I'll call you Carlisle if you promise to stop calling me Isabella."

"Bella it is then," he says smirking at me.

"The only people... no, actually the only person who calls me Isabella is my father and he only does that when I'm not around. He thinks he's hidden it from me but I caught him doing it when I was sixteen." I look at Charlie with a light smile pulling at my lips, remembering the time he had a talk with Jacob about his intentions with his daughter, Isabella. Jake teased me for weeks about my name and I teased Jake for weeks about having to sit through the 'So son, what are your intentions with Isabella?' speech.

Charlie just mumbles and makes his way back to the Mariners game. I smirk, packing the last of the dishes away.

"So... Bella," Carlisle says, smiling broadly. "Could we go up to your room to go set up? I'd like to get as much done as possible before it gets too late." I don't know what the time of the night has to do with anything but I'm not going to question Dr. Who, here.

"Uhm... Sure. Let go," I turn around and head for the stairs but feel him hesitating behind me and turn around to see him looking in Charlie's direction before grabbing his equipment and following me up the stairs.

I stop just outside my room and look up at Carlisle and say hesitantly, "Uh, yeah, this is my room."

"Let's get this slumber party set up." He gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder, sensing my hesitation. I haven't had anyone else but my father in my room. Well no, that's a lie. Jake did like sneaking through my window occasionally while we were still in high school. My mouth dries and I feel a lump growing in my throat at the memory and I push the door open, deciding not to focus on the past any longer than I need to.

"Thank you, Bella," Carlisle says stepping into my room. "For being prepared to let me into your private space. It's one thing being prepared to be observed in a hospital but it's something completely different to allow someone into your personal space with a camera."

"That's alright. I just want to get this over with, you know?"

"Yes Bella, I think I understand." He removes a tripod from the box and sets it up by the foot of my bed, then attaches a small black video camera to the top of it. Carlisle slowly pans across my room to the door and back and suddenly stops dead still. I swear it even looks like he's not breathing. The hairs on the back of my neck start to prick up at his odd behavior.

"Carlisle?" I ask tentatively, not sure whether or not I should say anything, touch him, slap him or something. "Carlisle, is everything okay?" I ask with a shaky voice, barely whispering.

Suddenly he moves again as if he's woken from a daze.

"Sorry...uhm Bella...in the mirror... I thought I saw..." he shakes his head as if he's trying to clear it. "I must be working too many hours at the hospital." And he start laughing, it's a bit unsettling and weird. "I thought I saw something reflecting in your mirror but it was just the chair in the corner with your clothes all over it." As Doctor Strangelove continues laughing I can't help but wonder if Alice's oddness may be rubbing off on him. Or did she inherit it from her strange father? I don't see what's funny about seeing my clothes strewn chair reflecting in my mirror but, what the hell? His laugh is infectious and I join him with a giggle.

He positions the camera to face my bed then takes out a second camera attached to a suction cup type thing and fixes it to my bedroom window.

Turning back to me he asks, "What time do you usually go to bed, Bella?"

"I've always been more of a night person. I've never really been able to settle down enough to sleep before eleven but, ever since the waking in the wee hours of the morning thing started, I've started going to bed around nine."

"Okay good, it's eight-thirty now so I can hook you up to the heart rate monitor and leave you to your nightly routine then," he says looking at his wrist watch.

"Yeah okay, uhm so Alice attached the heart rate patches last time. How did you want to do it this time?" I ask blushing at the thought of him having to see more of my skin than he currently does.

"Actually Bella this heart rate monitor doesn't attach to your skin with patches like the one in the hospital. This one is worn around your chest, secured with a strap. If you're okay with it I'd like to place the heart rate monitor around your chest just under your... breasts."

_Oh. My. God. _I think. _This is going to be embarrassing._

"You won't need to undress at all, all you need to do is lift your shirt up a little and I'll put it on for you," Carlisle continues. "And I'll show you how to remove it in the morning. With this heart rate monitor you can go about your evening as you normally would except that you won't be able to take a shower. Is that okay or did you want to go have a quick shower before?" he asks tentatively.

"No, that's fine. I usually shower in the morning in any case so I don't think that'll be a problem," I answer and suddenly feel dirty at the thought of not being able to shower.

"I'm going to set the monitor to record your heart rate at an interval of thirty seconds," he continues "Then tomorrow morning, I'll download the data on to my computer and we can analyze it in conjunction with the video."

I release a sigh at the thought of being a guinea pig once again and internally click my ruby slippers three times wishing to go home and not be in this strange land anymore. Can't we just rewind six months to when everything made sense? To a time before I destroyed everything safe and normal with confidence and desire?

Dr. Cullen picks up a tiny tape recorder that looks like it's attached to a belt and turns toward me asking, "Could you lift up your shirt for me please, Bella?"

"Uhm... uhhhh" I stammer caught off guard a little. I knew he was going to ask me but now that he is I'm suddenly very shy and can feel my face becoming warmer and warmer as I blush.

"Maybe we should ask Charlie to be here for this, just to make you a little bit more comfortable, Bella?" Carlisle's suggestion snaps me out of my embarrassment and I realize that he's just a doctor and I'm sure he's seen a lot more than my stomach in his line of work.

"No, no, that's fine," I say lifting my shirt, sitting down on my bed. Carlisle makes quick work at attaching the monitor to my chest.

"Thanks Bella, you can lower your shirt now," he says as he turns around to collect his things. "I'll see you in the morning then."

"Okay, and thanks Carlisle."

Smiling at me he asks, "Thank you? For what Bella?"

"Thank you for your help. Thank you for not just accepting the findings of the first tests and being willing to keep looking."

"It really is a pleasure Bella. It's in my nature to find solutions, to help people, to make a difference," he says with a soft, comforting smiling on his face as he walks out of my bedroom door. "I hope you have a good night's rest, see you tomorrow Miss Swan."

"Goodbye and goodnight doctor."

::::::::::

Consciousness slowly comes to me. Now that's different. I usually bolt out of bed screaming myself awake. It makes for a good change but I would prefer still being asleep and in the security of unconsciousness. As I lie in my soft, warm bed I decide to just stay where I am. Maybe because I didn't wake with a jolt I'll be able to fall asleep again. I close my eyes and sigh deeply letting any tension trapped in my body out.

Then I hear it, the creaking sound of someone taking a step in the hallway. I wonder why Charlie is up, but then I realize that I can still hear snoring coming from his room. The floor in the hallway creaks again. Oh God, who's in the house? I've got to wake Charlie. I try to sit up but for the life of me can't move any part of my body. I can't even open my eyes! I can't roll over. I can't lift my arm. I can't... I can't make a sound! For some reason I can't get air to move through me to even moan.

Suddenly, I can hear someone running. The intruder is running, running towards my room and for a second I get the feeling that they are going to jump right on top of me. I can feel my pulse increasing. My heart is hammering against my ribcage trying to break free and get away from the danger. Small sweat beads are gathering on my forehead. I'm petrified, imagining how they're going to come storming into my room any second and attack me.

Just as they get to my bed everything goes deadly quiet.

"Ummmmmm," I manage to moan softly in an attempt to move, to make a sound, to... to.. to anything, but I still can't seem to move at all. My limbs are like heavy pieces of led. It feels like an unknown power is pressing me down into the bed, rendering me incapable of movement! My breathing is ragged and shallow. I wonder if I'm dreaming, if I'm stuck in some horrible nightmare. This feels way too real to be a nightmare though. I can feel the freezing air entering my lungs. I can feel the darkness pressing against my body. But it must be a nightmare. If I was awake I would be able to move.

As I'm about to accept that maybe I am indeed in the middle of a nightmare, I feel my bed move as if someone is sitting down behind me. Oh. My. God! Someone is here in my room, sitting on my bed. I will my body to move, begging the neurons in my brain to send the message to my limbs. I want to roll off the bed. I want to see who it is. Who is this person tormenting me?

My breathing keeps increasing in speed. I'm almost sure that I'm about to have a panic attack, that is, if my body allows itself to have a panic attack and still not move.

The softest, barely audible whisper reaches my ears, "Mine, Bella."

A scream escapes my lips and I bolt out of bed, grabbing my bedside lamp, preparing to smash it against whoever is sitting on my bed. But no one is there. It's just me and the darkness. I stand there for a moment, staring at my empty bed. As my breathing is returning to normal and my heartbeat is slowing down, I hesitantly return my lamp to my bedside table, turning it on. Everything is the same as it is every night when I wake except for the camera's that Carlisle left here earlier.

I look at the clock and it is two-forty in the morning. I guess it's time to start my day. I sigh as I turn to my closet to get dressed, shrugging off the fear I felt only moments ago.

_Just another panic attack_, I tell myself. _Nothing more. _

::::::::::

I'm cracking an egg into a hot frying pan when there is a knock at the door. For a moment I wonder who would be knocking on our door at six in the morning but then remember that Dr. Cullen said he would come by early. I grab a dish towel to clean my hands and turn towards the door after hearing a second knock.

"Hold your horses!" Charlie says as he walks into the room, his grumbly morning person face firmly in place.

I open the back door and find Dr. Cullen and Alice standing there. I didn't expect her to come here too.

"Good morning, Bella," Carlisle says with a lazy smile on his face "Did you sleep well?"

"Good morning, Carlisle. Good morning, Alice. Come in, please," I say, taking a step backwards to give them space to come in. "Sleep well? I don't know about that, what I can tell you is, that I got some sleep."

"So the normal story then?" he asks with a frown on his face.

"Yes, same old, same old," I say as I return to the frying pan to flip over Charlie's egg. "Can I make you some breakfast?" I ask, wondering if I should have thought about making everyone breakfast before they got here.

"No thanks, Bella, but a cup of coffee would be great," he replies, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Like you, I am more of a night owl. I don't always do so well with mornings."

"One coffee coming up, one for you, Alice?" She's standing just inside the door, looking very uncomfortable, almost like she's too scared to move.

"No thank you, Bella. I'm...uhm... fine," her wind chime voice sounds like she's uncertain. She hesitantly takes a step towards where Carlisle is seated at the kitchen table, making her way there tentatively like she's afraid that something is going to jump out of our cupboard and attack her. Finally, she sits down, looking from Carlisle to Charlie.

"Okay, Alice, whatever you say." She doesn't look like she needs the caffeine to add to her skittishness.

"So tell me about your night, Bella?" Carlisle asks, taking a notebook and pen out of his messenger bag.

"Like I said, same old, I woke at my normal time and got up and started my day," I say trying to avoid having to tell him the details.

He doesn't let me get away with it though because he looks at me quizzically and asks, "Did you wake up with a start, screaming as usual?"

"Uhm... not exactly," I say as I take a bite of my toast, effectively making it impossible to talk as I have food in my mouth.

"Why do I get the feeling you're trying to avoid answering my questions?" Damnit, he's way too smart for his own good.

"hi diwnr koiaw," I mumble my response.

"Tell you what," the good doctor says, standing up from the table. "I'll go get the tapes and have a look while you finish your breakfast and when you're done we can talk again." He walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs without another word.

Alice just sits at the table, silently staring out the window at the early morning light, pinching the bridge of her nose from time to time like she's trying to get rid of a nagging headache. Charlie and I don't speak either but look at each other and Alice, a little intrigued by her strangeness, or at least I am.

Carlisle returns to the kitchen as I'm removing our dishes from the table to wash them. He looks at Charlie and sighs before asking, "Bella, what happened last night?"

I can feel every fiber of my being freeze up with the realization that I will have to tell him about last night. Well, at least some of it. I'm standing with my back to them and can feel three sets of eyes focusing on my back. I slowly release the breath I've been keeping in, willing my body to relax and turn around to face them.

"Uhm... well... uhm," I stammer, unable to verbalize my experience. What do I say? Where do I begin?

"It's okay Bella. You don't need to say anything if you don't want to," Charlie says getting up from his spot at the kitchen table and walking over to me. He places his hand on my arm and turns to Carlisle. "Is this really necessary?" The look on his face is one of hostility, like a tiger ready to protect its cub.

"I think so," Carlisle answers confidently. "I've had a look at the videos, Charlie, and I need to ask Bella what she experienced last night to try to make sense of what I saw."

"It's okay, Charlie." I try to console and calm him by offering him a reassuring smile. I slowly make my way to the table and sit down staring at the grain of the table. "I woke up the same time as I do every night," I start trying to explain, but as I speak I can feel the panic moving up from my toes, making its way up my body, slowly, deliberately, unstoppable. "But...uhm... I didn't wake up screaming as I always do."

"Okay?" Carlisle nods, urging me on with a frown spreading across his forehead.

"I just woke up, still in bed and still a little asleep. As I was lying there though, I could feel my heart rate increasing, my palms beginning to sweat. It felt like I was having a panic attack." I decide not to add that I thought someone was in the house. I don't want to face the questions that that would evoke. I don't want them to think that I'm as crazy as I think I am.

"We'll have to check your heart rate recorder," Carlisle says, pointing towards my chest. "Judging by what you are saying I'm sure we'll find an elevated heart rate. Anything else, Bella?"

"No, not really, it's just... well, eventually I did bolt out of bed and then I just started my day like I always do." I'm still staring at the table surface, not willing to look at any of them out of fear that they'll know that I'm leaving something out.

"What did you see on the video?" I ask, deciding to try to change the focus from me to Carlisle. I'm also very curious as to why Carlisle insisted on asking me what I experienced.

Carlisle looks from me to Charlie and back again before replying with a question of his own, "How about I show you?"

"Okay," I say slowly, uncertain if I really do want to see.

"I can plug the camera into the television."

"Bella, you don't have to," Charlie says as I'm sure he can sense my apprehension.

"No, I want to," I reassure him once again. "Let's do this," I say getting up and walking toward the den.

I sit on the couch, curling my legs under me, willing myself to stay calm even if it's just for Charlie's sake. I've got to face my demons. I have got to do this. I can't run away. If this is what I have to do to get some sleep, then so be it. Charlie sits next to me while Carlisle hooks the video recorder up to the television. Alice seems to have stayed in the kitchen.

"Here we go," Carlisle says pressing play on the recorder. "This is the camera I set up to record your entire room."

We sit there watching my darkened room where I'm lying in my bed, on my side, unmoving. Nothing seems to be happening. Then I see it. Reflected in the mirror, my bedroom door slowly opens. My whole body starts shaking at the sight of that and I expect to see a figure stepping into my room but nothing happens. No one comes walking in. Nothing.

I look at Carlisle, "Did you see that?" I ask and I can hear a twinge of panic in my voice.

"See what, Bella?" he asks.

"The door!"

"Yes, keep watching." And I do.

For some strange reason I can see puffs of smoke as I breathe out. Like what you see on a cold winter morning.

"See Bella, it looks like the temperature in your room has dropped significantly."

Then I hear the moan I released, the bed seems to move slightly and a few seconds later I bolt from it, screaming. Carlisle stops the video and the three of us sit there in silence staring at the empty screen.

Finally the silence is broken by Carlisle, "I think there may be something more going on here, Bella than the normal run of the mill insomnia and anxiety."

"I don't understand," I say shaking my head gently trying to rid the panic that is setting in, making my head fuzzy.

"I don't quite understand it myself yet Bella, but if you'll allow me to, I'd like to find out." He looks like he's trying to build up the courage to ask me something difficult, like there is a secret he's unsure about sharing with me.

"Bella, I'd like to show Alice your room."

Utter confusion seeps into my being, like a cold, wet blanket being wrapped around me.

"I don't understand," I repeat again.

"Alice is... well, for the lack of a better word, gifted."

I look at Charlie in an attempt to understand what's going on. I find it very disconcerting that he seems to get exactly what Carlisle means.

"Okay, someone needs to explain to me what the hell is going on," I nearly shout at the two of them. "Because ever since I woke up on the floor yesterday morning I've been getting the feeling that the two of you aren't telling me everything!" I shake my finger at Charlie's face.

"Okay Bella, calm down," Charlie says.

"Bella, when I say Alice is gifted I mean she's psychic. When you came in for your tests on Friday night, when she touched you she got a strange feeling. That's why I brought her along this morning. I want to see if Alice can pick up anything in your room."

"Pick up anything? What like a pen?" I feign ignorance; they say it is bliss after all.

Carlisle offers me a weak smile, "No Bella, like something paranormal."

"I don't know about this anymore. This is just too... fucking…weird." I punctuate the last two words by flailing my arms around as I get up off the couch. I go stand at the window looking out.

From behind me I hear Alice's voice for the first time since her and Carlisle arrived this morning.

"Everything will be okay Bella," she says, repeating exactly what Charlie said to me yesterday.

Don't ask me why but those words wash over me like a wave of calm and relief. I believe her. I'm still not sure what's going on but in that moment I believe that everything is going to be okay.

"Alice, I don't understand," I tell her, hoping for clarification.

"Well, Bella... you see, I'm psychic. I have the ability to sense things, feel things about people and places," she tells me calmly. As if the ability to do this is the most normal thing in the world.

"So Alice, you see ghosts?"

"Not exactly, Bella. I don't actually see physical things. It's more like I sense things," she explains. "Like the other night, when you came in to the hospital for your tests. When I touched you, an all-encompassing darkness came over me. I felt grief, remorse, sadness, anguish, guilt. It was like death surrounded you."

Suddenly Alice's strange behavior makes a lot of sense. I would also freak out if I felt all those emotions just from touching someone.

"Oh," is all I manage to say.

"So what do you say, Bella?" Carlisle asks. "Can we take Alice up to you room?"

With a sigh, I accede. "Okay, fine. Let's get this over with." With that, I stalk towards the stairs with Carlisle, Charlie and Alice close on my heels.

Alice stops me just outside my bedroom door, holding her hand up and closing her eyes. This is just so odd but, what the hell? I'll go with it. It feels like we're stuck in Wuthering Heights and Catherine is going to come through the door any second to torment Heathcliff.

"There is a lot of hostility here," she finally says.

_Really? I'm sure you must feel the hostile feelings boil in my blood right now Alice_, I think.

Alice reaches out to place her hand on my door knob but pulls it away suddenly as if she's been burnt. I shake my head in exasperation, fling the door open and step inside. I walk to my bed and turn around to face them.

"See, nothing but furniture," I say with my palms raised to the ceiling.

Alice takes an uneasy step into my room and suddenly she releases a piercing scream. Her hands ball into fists and her face morphs from fear to rage, right in front of me.

As she's about to launch herself at me a tall figure comes bounding through my bedroom door wrapping his arms around her waist, screaming, "No Alice!"

The man behind the voice is one I have never seen before. He has a lean, muscular body and a mob of messy reddish brown hair. He moves so fast to stop her I can't make out any other details.

"Let me go!" She screeches. "Fucking bitch! Let me at her!"

"Alice! Alice! Look at me," the stranger says. "Calm down. This isn't you. Focus, Alice."

"I can't," Alice replies through clenched teeth. "I'm just so very, very angry, Edward. Just let me go!" Alice tries everything to get out of his grip but he holds on.

"You can do it Alice," he says calmly. "Focus inward, find your inner peace and push out the evil!"

"There is too much wrath and hatred consuming me!"

At that moment yet another stranger comes in. A guy with blond, curly hair walks toward Alice and places his palm against her cheek. "Alice, baby. Let's get out of here, okay?"

"Jazz," she sighs, leaning into his touch and the three of them slowly move toward my bedroom door. Just before they disappear from view the dark stranger looks at me, his bright green eyes seem to darken with hatred. I feel my knees buckle underneath me and I crumble to the floor, finally breaking down in sobs.

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><p><strong>So? What do you think? Was it worth the wait? Or did you hate every word? What's going on in Bella's room? <strong>

**Please hit the review button below and let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 4 - All Night LOng

**Thank you to Sharadesiderate for the Beta and I2want2knowu for pre-reading.**

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Twilight and all its characters belong to the genius Stephanie Meyer as does Supernatural to Eric Kripke and McG.**

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><p><em>Chapter 4 – All Night Long<em>

_Cause the walls were shaking_

_The earth was aching_

_And we were making it & you_

_Shook me all night long_

_ACDC – You shook me all night long_

We arrive in Forks in less time than it would normally take to get here, thanks to the mechanical excellence of the Impala and my love of driving at top speed. Even though we manage to get here quite quickly it still took a lot out of us. I refused to stop along the way to book into a motel, so all three of us are beyond exhausted.

After taking care of Rosalie Hale we went straight to Char to let her know that she was safe. To say she was delighted is an understatement. Char showered us in exuberant kisses and promised to name her first-born boy Edward Jasper Emmett. Unfortunately, we weren't able to stay for the wedding so we wished her many beautiful years with Peter and high-tailed it to Forks.

Carlisle is one of very few people in the world for whom we would drop anything and everything. When our father decided that he wanted to become a rogue hunter, Carlisle was the one who took care of us. Our father came back from time to time to update us on his missions and to ensure that our training continued, however Carlisle was the only stable factor in our lives. We owed him more than we would ever be able to repay him. That's why when he calls, we come running.

We meet Carlisle outside the distinctly scary looking Forks Hospital. It's an uncharacteristically warm and dry Saturday morning and we're too dead on our feet to fully appreciate it. I am so tired, if I could find a bed in a deserted ward and sleep for a week, I would. If it wasn't for the fact the hospital reminded me of an old haunted mental institution I might have done it regardless.

"Good morning boys. Did you have a good drive?" Carlisle asks, shaking each of our hands.

"It's more like low flying when Edward is the one doing the driving," Emmet says, wiggling his head like one of those bobble-head dolls you place on your dash. I think he's trying to be funny; but I'm just too tired to find the humour in anything right now.

Carlisle, looking a bit sleep-deprived himself, gives Emmett a weak smile and says, "I can believe that. You boys must be tired as hell."

"Yeah, but it can wait," I say. As tired as I am, I'd rather start looking into the reason why he called.

Our father trained us well. My thoughts flash to the time he kept us up for five days straight, non-stop combat training. He said that demons don't sleep, so we needed to learn to perform at our best without any rest. He made us carry tires and run through the forest for ten miles before hand to hand combat training, over and over and over again.

"It can, Edward," Carlisle says firmly, placing his hand on my shoulder. "The dead aren't going anywhere. Besides, I'm still working."

With a sigh I accept his words and say, "Yeah, I suppose you're right. We could do with a shower and some sleep." If I smell anything like Emmett right now, showering is definitely a priority.

"Good," he smiles. "Esme will be elated to see you! She's been cleaning and prepping for your arrival since I told her you boys were coming." His eyes light up at the mention of her name and you can see the deep-seated love he has for his wife.

"I've been dreaming about Esme's cooking since we started heading this way," Emmett says, patting his stomach. I swear all he ever thinks about is food. Actually no, strike that, I think chasing tail is up there with food.

I just shake my head and turn to Carlisle, "See you later then, Doc."

"Just let me finish up my work here and I'll be right with you," he says looking worried. I wonder what kept him up last night?

"Sure, see you later."

With that we jump back in the Impala for the short drive to the Cullen sanctuary.

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We're getting our bags and a few small weapons out of the trunk, for precaution, when Esme comes out of the house with a huge grin on her face. "There are my favorite boys! Come give me a hug already," she says, opening her arms for us to hug her.

It's impossible not to smile back at her beautiful, heart-shaped face and feel the warmth spreading across my chest.

"How are you doing mamma bear?" Emmett bellows as he bounds up the stairs and scoops her up in a huge hug. Esme laughs at his excitement as he sets her back down on her feet and reaches out to welcome Jasper, who was making his way up the stairs. "It's so incredibly good to see you, Esme," Jasper says as he offers her a tight squeeze.

"It's good to see you too, boys," she declares and turns to me. "Edward, aren't I getting a hug from you?"

"Of course," I answer. Smiling like a shy sixteen year old, I climb the stairs towards her, into her warm, motherly embrace. She feels exactly like I imagine my mother's embrace would have felt like, if I had ever had the opportunity to feel it. Warm like pumpkin pie, comforting like an aged family quilt wrapped around you on a cold winter night.

"Emmett hasn't stopped talking about your cooking since we left Pittsburgh," I say as I take a step back from her embrace. "He's been making a list of all the things he wants you to make while we're here." I say with a chuckle. I'm sure if we ask Emmett he would be able to rattle off the list in alphabetical order. To be honest, I have my own list.

"Oh he has, has he? Well then you're in luck. I've just finished making my famous French Toast. Carlisle called to let me know you boys had arrived. I was sure you would be hungry after your trip."

"Mmm-hmmm, now that's exactly what I've been talking about," Emmett said, scooping Esme up again and heading for the door, impatient as ever to start stuffing his face.

Before Jasper disappears through the front door he turns to me.

"You coming?" he asks. "You know if you take too long, Em will finish everything?" he says with a slight chuckle in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm coming. Just give me a minute to grab a few more things from the trunk." It always takes me a minute or two to step out of warrior mode. The Cullen house is the only place on the planet that I can truly relax, so I always take a few deep breaths before I cross the threshold. I try to center myself, try to turn off the fight.

"Okay, I'll see if I can save you something, but no guarantees." Jasper offers me an understanding smile before heading off.

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The sun has risen and set again, after a full day's worth of rest and relaxation we have rested more than we have in years. My father would have a coronary. He believes that the fight should never end and, as much as I agree with him, it's still good to just be free for a few hours. The shower I took made me feel like a new man, and to shave with a new blade was heavenly.

We haven't had a chance to talk to Carlisle yet as we keep missing each other. Em, Jazz, Esme and I were sitting around the kitchen table having dinner when Carlisle finally appears, more rested than he looked this morning.

"Hey boys," he says, placing his hand on my shoulder, while standing behind me. "You all look like you got some rest and washed all your motel bed bugs off." Carlisle is smiling half-heartedly at us, whilst giving us all a once over.

"By the looks of you, so have you," I reply with a smile. Although he does look more rested, he is still pale and still has dark rings under his eyes. If I didn't know him better I would have taken him for a vampire. What's keeping him up at night?

"We've been hanging around all day, waiting to talk to you. Where have you been?" Jasper asks, before finishing the last of his lasagna.

"I had a house call to attend to before I could sit down with you," he offers as explanation.

"Since when do you make house calls, Doc?" I ask suspiciously. In all the time I've known Carlisle he has never made house calls, opting to work in the hospital exclusively. His career choice giving him more access to coroner's reports and so on, enabling him to get information for us as hunters.

"Since the house call was a special favor to the Chief of Police, that's when." He sounds so firm, it almost feels like I'm being reprimanded. He takes a seat next to Jasper and helps himself to some dinner.

"Hmm-hmm, how is dear old Charlie Swan doing?" Emmett manages to ask between bites. The fact that he is able to eat again after consuming enough French Toast to feed Napoleon's army and more hot dogs for lunch than speed eating champion Takeru Kobayashi would ever be able to eat in one sitting, is just ridiculous.

"He is as he always is; stable, level-headed and uncompromising. Oh and let's not forget hard-headed and over-protective."

"He had a daughter as far as I remember." Count on Emmett to remember a daughter. "She's an adult now, isn't she?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Jasper bursts out laughing. I just shake my head and exclaim, "Emmett! That's the daughter of the Charlie Swan you're talking about!" Typical Emmett, always thinking with the wrong head.

"Just joking bro!" Emmett says, raising his hands.

_Joking my ass_, I think. Carlisle and Esme just laugh at our interaction. I suppose they are used to Emmett by now, thank God for that.

Out of the blue, I feel a pair of delicate arms wrap around my waist from behind and a melodious voice say, "Edward, you're finally awake!"

She lets go of me and in one leap reaches Jasper, throwing her arms around him as she exclaims, "Jazz, I'm so glad to see you!"

"Good evening, Alice," he says, smiling warmly as he returns her hug.

"You've kept me waiting a long time, mister. After I got back from my night shift at the hospital you were already passed out and I had to crash too." Her voice holds a hint of regret.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, darlin'," Jasper says to Alice, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

The two of them have been in love with each other since we were teenagers. We all know it. You just needed to look at the two of them together to know. But they never pursued a relationship. Jasper says it's because of our lifestyle. With the amount we travel across the country and the risks involved in what we do, it's difficult to keep a relationship going.

"What?" Emmett hollers, standing up and making his way towards Jasper and Alice. "No hug for old Emmett here?"

"Well, that depends Emmett, on when the last time was, you ogled some poor unsuspecting girl's boobies?" she says, giggling. "I don't want to experience that shit."

"Uhm..." he stammers, having been called out.

Still giggling, Alice jumps into the air, trying to reach Emmett's towering form. She throws her arms around his neck and says, "Hi Em! Missed you too, okay?"

She lets go and takes a step back before asking with a knowing look, "So who was the hottie in the wedding dress?" As I snap my eyes to her, she winks at me before turning to smile broadly at Em.

"Who? Char?" Emmett asks, confused.

"No,no, I know what Char looks like. The other one, the one you flirted with?"

Jasper and I burst into a fit of laughter remembering Emmett's five second affair with the ghost of Ms. Rosalie Hale.

Alice looks at us in bemusement before it finally comes to her and she exclaims, "Oh God, Emmett! Ew! Now you're flirting with the dead?"

Tears from uncontrolled laughter are streaming down her face and Emmett blushes like a school girl who's just seen a penis for the first time, slinking back into his seat.

It takes us a while to calm down but once we have, I get straight to business.

"So Doc, why the early morning call?" With my question, Alice and Esme get up and clear the table, not wanting to be part of the conversation.

"Something big is up in Forks," he says, looking at me a little nervously. "There have been several signs and omens over the past year or so; from electrical storms, crop failures, animals acting strangely to mysterious deaths and symbols carved into trees."

"Mysterious deaths?" I ask, frowning. Carlisle has seen his fair share of death; I wonder what has him freaked out enough that he's called us instead of dealing with it himself. Carlisle might not be a practicing hunter any more but he still has the skills and knowledge to take monsters down.

"Remember Harry Clearwater?"

"Yes, he worked that shape shifter case with us in Tulsa," Jasper recalls.

"Well, Charlie and I found his body in the forest near La Push a couple of weeks ago."

I look at him, concerned, but still not seeing what's got him so nervous. So Harry was dead? So what? We all knew that Harry had a bad heart. It was bound to happen sometime.

"His lungs were filled with water," he says bluntly.

"Okay, I give you that. It is a little strange but I don't really see what you're saying here Carlisle. So Harry drowned," I stated the obvious.

"Okay, here's all the information," Carlisle says, putting his cutlery down and straightening up. "We found his body a day's hike away from any water able to drown him. His time of death was about thirty minutes before we found him but his clothes and hair were dry. In fact, he looked and felt as dry as a bone. I received the completed autopsy this week and it revealed that his lungs were filled with seawater. I tested his clothes... they have never been in contact with seawater, _ever_."

We sit there in silence for a few seconds before Emmett finally asks, "How did Harry get seawater in his lungs?"

"That's why I called you," Carlisle says, looking at each of us in turn. "I think it's a ghost ship."

"Carlisle, ghost ships have a tendency to appear over very many years. You've been living here, on and off for forty years, I'm sure you would have heard about it before if there was one spotted in the area," I state a little too arrogantly. I know sometimes I sound like a know-it-all but when it comes to this stuff I really do know it all. I live this stuff, every single day.

"I know the lore, Edward. That's why I looked into it." He hands me a piece of paper with six names on. "It looks like all of this started about six months ago. See?" he asks, pointing at the list. "Six people have been found drowned, one person every month for the past six months."

"That means it's a newly created ghost ship," Jasper says staring into space.

"Ghost ships aren't just created," I affirm a little louder than I intended, but worry is starting to settle in. "They don't just appear. You need ideal conditions. There have only been four confirmed ghost ships throughout history, the Mary Celeste of Portugal, the Flying Dutchman of South Africa, the Caleuche of Chile and the Lady Lovibond, off the coast of Kent in the United Kingdom." I raise a finger for each of the four ships.

"I know," Carlisle says. "That's why I called. There is something big going down here, something beyond my knowledge.

"I think you may be right, Carlisle," I say, getting up from the kitchen table and walking over to the window to look out at the surrounding forest. The unending trees have always been a source of calm for me, but not tonight.

"So where do we start?" Emmett asks, opening a beer.

"I can show you everything I've been able to dig up; police reports, coroner's reports, news clippings. Where you go from there is up to you. All I know is that we have to find out as soon as possible, because a month is almost up since Harry died so I expect another death to occur."

"And you wanted us to sleep," I say, nervously running my hand through my hair. "We could have had a day's head start already."

"Edward, I don't want any more innocent lives lost and that includes yours. Lack of sleep leads to stupid mistakes and stupid mistakes lead to accidents that could have been avoided." He's right, I know he is, but I don't like working against time.

"I think we should also have a look at town records dating back as far as possible, just to make sure this thing isn't returning. The Lady Lovibond only appears every fifty years, so it's possible," Jasper says. "It's not that we don't trust you," he smiles at Carlisle. "We should just make one hundred percent sure."

"I would have done the same if I were in your shoes, son," he says, smiling back at Jasper.

We spend the rest of the night strategizing and going through report after report after report, never really finding anything. Just as we are about to head off to bed, Carlisle nervously looks at us and says, "I need to ask you boys a favor."

"Sure, dude," Emmett says without hesitation. "Whatever you need, we'll do it."

I'm a little more cautious. "What's the favor?"

"I have got to go back to the Swan residence in the morning."

"Another house call?" I ask him suspiciously.

"Kind of. I've got to go check on some equipment I left there for a sleep study... uhm..."

"Am I going to have to drag it out of you, Doc?" It's like he's trying to avoid having to tell us, as if it's a secret held by the Freemasons.

"I think he's unsure if he should say anything to us," Jasper says, perceptive as always.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Carlisle says "It's just a very sensitive matter."

"Come on Carlisle. We deal with sensitive every day of our lives. Spit it out!"

With a big sigh Carlisle anxiously fills us in on Bella's insomnia and the tests he's running tonight.

"I think there may be more here than can be explained medically, so I want to take Alice with me," he explains. "I was wondering if you boys would mind tagging along, as a precaution."

"Carlisle, I don't think three strangers would go down so well. How would Charlie feel about it?" Even though we have met Charlie a few times in the past couple of years, we have never met his daughter. Charlie is very protective of her.

"I was thinking more along the lines of you all hanging around outside?"

"Oh, okay. Sure, just wake us before you leave in the morning."

"Thank you, I'll see you in the morning," Carlisle says standing up, running his hand through his hair. That must be where I picked up that nervous tick. "Good night boys."

"Goodnight, Doc," the three of us say in unison.

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"Just keep your eyes and ears open," Carlisle says, getting out of his Mercedes. He says he drives a Merc as a prop to show off his doctorlyness. I'm convinced that he actually likes his AMC. It is, after all, a masterpiece of German engineering.

Alice just stands there silently, looking very apprehensive, like she already knows what's going to happen. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her own middle, providing her own comfort.

Jasper slowly moves towards her small figure standing next to the Merc, wraps his arms around her and asks, "Alice, darlin. Are you alright?"

"Yeah-yeah," she waves him off. "I'm fine... I'm just getting a really bad feeling about doing this. I keep feeling like I'm going to hurt someone."

"Alice," Jasper says brushing her cheek with the back of his hand, running his knuckles over her slightly pink cheek, "If there is one thing I'm dead certain about, it's that you would never hurt anyone."

Alice just smiles at him weakly, the smile not reaching her eyes.

"You would never hurt a fly, shortstop," Emmett adds.

"Thanks, Sasquatch," Alice chuckles as she heads toward the door with Carlisle.

The three of us stand next to the Impala, me leaning against the passenger door, listening to every sound. Jasper turns slowly, surveying our environment, his eyes looking everywhere while Emmett looks up and down the street. Time ticks along in silence.

"I wonder what's up with the Swan girl?" I ask some time later.

"Whatever it is," Jasper says. "It's got Alice more skittish than a cat on a hot tin roof."

"Yeah I noticed," I say, running my hand over my jaw, feeling my morning stubble. "I can't help but think that Carlisle should pay more attention to Alice's feelings here."

"It did look like something was trying to tell her to stay out of the house," Jasper says, pointing at the white washed house.

And that's when I feel it, the electricity in the air.

It makes the hair along my arms stand to attention, causing my skin to crawl. In the distance I hear thunder. I look up and, for a change, it is a cloudless day in Forks. _There's your omen_, I think. Something supernatural is definitely going on. Everything goes deathly silent; birds stop chirping, animals stop scurrying around in the underbrush of the nearby forest, not even a fly can be heard. It's as if someone suddenly turned my hearing off. The silence is eerily deafening and then we hear Alice's piercing scream.

Jasper and I take off without hesitation, not even thinking of taking any weapons with us.

"Emmett. Guns. Now!" is all I get out before bursting through the door into the kitchen. Jasper runs into the den and I head straight up the stairs, three at a time. For some reason I knew instinctively where to go.

As Alice is about to launch herself at someone, I come speeding into the room screaming, "Alice no!"

I wrap my arms around her as tight as I can without hurting her.

"Let me go!" She screeches in a voice I have never heard come from Alice before. "Fucking bitch! Let me at her!"

"Alice! Alice! Look at me," I say trying to calm her. "Calm down. This isn't you. Focus Alice!"

She needs to pull herself back towards her right mind and get control back. Her whole body is shaking with her desire to violently attack. For the briefest of moments there is a flicker of fight in her eyes.

"I can't. I'm so very, very, angry Edward. Just let me go!" She tries to fight me, doing everything she can to break my hold.

"You can do it Alice," I say, doing my best to keep my hold on her. "Focus inward, find your inner peace and push out this evil!"

"There is too much wrath and hatred consuming me!" I can see that she is trying to get control but is failing miserably.

Thankfully Jasper decides to join the fight finally. He calmly moves towards her and places his palm against her cheek and says, "Alice, baby. Let's get out of here, okay?"

Alice visibly sighs and relaxes into his touch saying, "Jazz."

I take that moment to start moving us towards the door, wanting to get out of here as quickly as possible.

Before I exit, I look at the person Alice was about to attack and it's like a wrecking ball hitting me in the chest. It feels like every fiber of my being recognizes the girl with the most amazing chocolate brown eyes I have ever seen.

She looks assaulted, petrified, confused. I have to force myself not to let go of Alice and run to her to comfort her, to kiss her full, pink lips and say, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm here, you're safe."

What is it about this woman? And what the hell was that?

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